blue_ajah | [pfsb] investigations and explorations

[pfsb] investigations and explorations

Two days after Moiraine brought Wei Wuxian's talismans back to Twin Peaks, after she has taken the time necessary to review all of her notes as well as the histories she has been collecting, she calls Dale Cooper, who is still in Olympia, now, rather than Seattle.

All things considered, the conversation could have gone much, much worse.

She is well aware that they are going to have a much longer discussion after he returns in a few weeks, but he had agreed not to ask her to wait. She, in turn, had agreed, as before, not to go to Glastonbury Grove alone, or at night. She also agrees not to approach the pool closer than necessary to place the talismans, or to test it with her own weaving - not at present, anyway.

Hawk had been her next call.

A few days later, after he has had time to consider and to consult with the Bookhouse Boys, Hawk knocks on her apartment door and agrees to her request.

* * * * * * *
When Moiraine returns to Milliways, she leaves a sealed note with Bar, addressed to Wei Wuxian.

Master Wei--

I made the trial of your talismans according to your instructions. When I activated the one at the northernmost point, glowing red energy swept inward from the circle in a wave focused on the pool at its center.

The pool absorbed it all. It vanished into the depths without a ripple, and without a trace.

Nothing else has happened. Yet.

--Moiraine Sedai

That task completed, she settles at her preferred table with tea and begins sketching something in a notebook.

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"It is not uncommon to do so, when another opens the door that you may see," she murmurs. "Or, sometimes, to cross into others' worlds, for a time. That is something I have done in the past, as well."

She does not clarify whether or not this is one of those cases, perhaps deliberately so.

"So which was it this time?"

You don't grow up with Harrowhark Nonagesimus and not learn to recognized a carefully crafted statement when you hear it. "A look through the door?

"Or a visit?"

Although she does not outwardly react, she is pleased to observe how quick Gideon Nav is to seize upon the key distinction, even if it will make conversation slightly more challenging.

(Given what Harrow had said about her, she is not particularly surprised, either.)

"A brief visit," she says. "Although not one that others there were aware of."

Gideon huffs out a breath through her nose and drums her fingers on the table, exasperated and worried.

The problem, of course, is Harrow. Against all possible expectations, Harrow has proved herself to be...not completely the worst. She'd been alarmingly forthcoming after the death of the Fifth and after the avulsion field trial. She'd agreed to work together.

Harrow doesn't trust anyone, least of all Gideon. But she trusts this woman from another world? Gideon doesn't know why that thought progression makes something in her chest feel like a crumpled piece of flimsy, and she's not interested in interrogating it.

There is only one rule, Teacher had said. And that one didn't say anything about bringing visitors from other universes through a portal to stroll around Canaan House while adepts and cavaliers slowly move closer and closer to all-out war.

I need you to trust me, says Harrow again in her memory.

She did ask. So maybe...maybe Gideon can try.

"It's creepy, right?" she says, making up her mind. "Even aside from the growing likelihood that we'll all die horribly, that place just gives me the creeps."

"It is certainly different," the Aes Sedai allows.

She has no intention of telling Gideon Nav the reason she was there in the first place, of course, or all of what she saw and learned.

"And sparsely populated."

And getting sparser by the day, it seems.

"Not if you count the constructs," Gideon points out. She doesn't. But maybe someone who has the right combination of temperament and interests to gain Harrow's attention would. "A population of mostly bones is something it shares with the Ninth."

And both places suck a lot.

"There is a difference between a construct and a being capable of independent thought," she observes.

"I have not seen the Ninth, but I am curious. Would you tell me of it?"

Without her sunglasses on, Gideon's expression, even under a thick coat of ebony and alabaster paint, very clearly reads why, though.

"It's furthest from Dominicus in the system. The whole House is in one big shaft that got drilled down a myriad ago. Try to walk on the surface and you'll kick it pretty quickly. Uh..."

What do you say about the place you've been trying to escape since you could walk? "It's the worst. All I ever wanted to do was leave."

"And now you have," she observes.

She finds it interesting what Gideon has not said, as much as what she has.

Gideon shakes her head, conscious that she's probably said too much and uncomfortable with it. The last thing a true cavalier would do is admit they hate their House and would do anything, anything at all to escape it.

Besides, she hasn't escaped it. Not yet. Not until Harrow ascends to whatever Lyctorhood has in store for her and Gideon is free to head to the Cohort, paid commission in hand.

"Harrow can tell you all about it," she says, sliding her dark glasses back on. Her eyes – those golden, nothing-like-Ninth eyes – disappear behind their smoked lenses. "She's the head of the House. I'm sure she's memorized all ten thousand years of Ninth history and anything else you might want to know."

"I have found in the past that the viewpoint of a Warder may reveal different aspects of the thing observed than that of an Aes Sedai," she says.

"But I shall not press you. You have just met me, and I am well aware that this place can be overwhelming, at times."

"You said they're bonded, the Warders, yeah? To the people like you?"

It might sound unrelated. It's not. "What did Harrow tell you about cavs and adepts?"

She inclines her head in assent as she says, "Yes. I am Aes Sedai."

It is more of an explanation than it may appear, although she knows that it may not seem so.

"She has told me enough to recognize that there are certain similarities." A single beat of silence. "The bond that exists between Warder and Aes Sedai offers certain benefits to each."

"What kind of benefits?"

She didn't exactly answer the question – Gideon is noticing a pattern, here – but if bonding is one of the similiarities then it seems like Harrow has told her what a cav and adept are supposed to be.

...Instead of whatever they are.

"The Warder's bond gives them increased endurance and strength," Moiraine says. "They are able to go without food, water, and rest, when needed, and may also withstand wounds that would kill an ordinary person. They also receive something of a sensitivity to certain types of enemies that are inimical to the One Power wielded by Aes Sedai."

She is carefully avoiding terms like Shadowspawn, for now, given certain ... misunderstandings... that might occur.

"Both Warder and Aes Sedai are able to sense each other through the bond, to a limited degree. It is useful for knowing the other's approximate location, for example, or if someone is injured or ill."

Edited 2020-10-14 12:18 (UTC)

The first part sounds a little like the Second, but the last...

She imagines Harrow with the ability to always find her and shudders.

(Although, all things considered, it would be sort of useful for keeping track of Harrow in Canaan House. Or maybe Gideon can just put a bell on her.)

"The Second does stuff like that," she says. "Not from a bond, I guess, but they can pump their cav full of murder energy."

"That sounds somewhat unpleasant, on its surface," she observes.

A pause, as she considers Gideon.

"Can the cavalier refuse it?"

"Y'know, I don't know."

Somehow that never came up in any of her comics. "I mean, why would they?"

“Why, indeed,” she murmurs.

"I mean, it sounds kind of creepy to me, but I don't know what it's like. And the Second are real sticklers for rules and regulations; they probably have to fill out a bunch of paperwork every time they do it."

She leans her chin on her hand and her elbow on the table. "The Ninth doesn't do anything like that."

"Different traditions among the different Houses, as we have among the Ajahs of the White Tower, among the Aes Sedai," Moiraine agrees.

"Ours are distinguished by color rather than number, however."

She takes another sip of tea.

"What of your traditions, as a cavalier of the Ninth?"

"People say the Ninth hasn't produced a real cavalier since Matthias Nonius," says Gideon, evenly. "That was a thousand years ago. Harrow's father's cav was mostly just good for carrying around big bags of bones."

It's not exactly an answer, but Moiraine's not the only one who can skate around a question.

Dark eyes narrow slightly, as her focus on the younger woman becomes more thoughtful.

"People will say all sorts of things," she observes, unruffled. "Do you consider yourself a real cavalier?"

Ninth cavs are necro suitcases. Who're you?

She's not some Nonius come-again, she's just a brawler.

Gideon shrugs, attempting to look as serene as her companion and utterly failing. (Her knee keeps jogging up and down underneath the table.) "I'm the one Harrow's got."

Without even the slightest flicker in her composure, Moiraine says,

"Then I suspect that she - and you - may do very well."

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